


I'll Be Home For Christmas

by afterthenovels



Category: White Collar
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Gen, One-Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-20
Updated: 2013-12-20
Packaged: 2018-01-05 06:50:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1090888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afterthenovels/pseuds/afterthenovels
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><a href="http://synchronizedminds.tumblr.com">synchronizedminds</a> prompted: the fbi was pursuing a suspect but he fled the country. neal and peter have to follow and catch the criminal themselves, so they leave NY and go to that place (let it be a very snowy place from a country where it's cold and snowy on christmas) and it's Christmas and they will be spending it together in another country away from the stuff they’re usually used to.</p>
<p>(Set somewhere around the first two seasons, before things got too complicated. :D)</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'll Be Home For Christmas

Peter disconnects the call and throws his phone on the hotel bed with an irritated huff. It bounces against the covers a few times, and Neal slowly moves his gaze from the phone to Peter, who has started to pace the floor with his hands on his hips.

"Do I even dare to ask?" Neal says, lifting his eyebrows.

"We're stuck here for Christmas," Peter grunts, running his hand through his hair. "Hughes said we should try our best to catch Williams before he escapes to yet another country. And to top it all off, there's apparently a huge snow storm coming that will most likely shut down all airports."

Neal glances outside of the hotel window. Stockholm is already covered in white, and it keeps snowing more and more each second, the sky dark with clouds. They were supposed to get back home today, with or without Williams, but the moment Peter woke up and looked out of the window he knew that things were about to get a lot more complicated.

"Well, at least Williams is not going anywhere with that storm," Neal finally comments, leaning back in his chair and resting his ankle on top of his knee.

Peter huffs. Neal's apparent calmness is making him feel even more fidgety. "But neither are we," he says, pointing at Neal. "And no offense, but I'd much rather be spending Christmas Eve in my house with my wife and dog instead of being stranded in Sweden with my CI."

Neal shrugs. "None taken. I'd much rather spend my Christmas Eve in your house as well."

Peter stops in his pacing, his mind immediately making out the actual meaning of the words. "You were going to crash our Christmas Eve dinner?" he asks incredulously.

Neal looks up. "June's out of town," he says by way of explanation, "and Mozzie hates the holidays. I was going to bring a bottle of wine," he adds.

"Of course you were," Peter mutters, dragging his hand down his face. "Well, we're stuck here for now. I don't think Williams is going to show up in that weather --"

"Nu-uh, he's too self-indulgent for that," Neal adds, playing with a pen he probably snatched from the reception when they checked in.

"-- so we'll just have to sit tight, wait for the storm to pass, and then do our best to catch him," Peter finishes. He takes another look out of the window as he grabs his phone from the bed. The snow doesn't show any signs of stopping any time soon, and he and Neal were certainly lucky to get one of the last available rooms in the hotel. You'd think hotels would be deserted this close to Christmas, but apparently that's not the case.

Peter lets himself sigh one more time before he dials Elizabeth's number. "You should call room service and get us something to eat," he calls out to Neal as he lifts the phone to his ear. "I'll call El to let her know we're stuck here, and I'm going to need something comforting to eat afterwards. Something like a burger."

The pen stops in Neal's hands. "Peter," he starts, pushing himself up from the chair, "we're in Sweden. We're not going to eat some ridiculous room service burgers on Christmas Eve."

Peter turns to look at him, still listening to the dial tone and absent-mindedly calculating the time difference between Stockholm and New York. "We're not?"

"No," Neal says with a grin. "I have an idea."

The smile on his face is the one that literally screams trouble and cons and more gray hairs for Peter, but somehow he always ends up agreeing to Neal's suggestions anyway.

 

\---

 

Neal forces Peter out of the room for a walk, except he doesn't actually go for a walk because of the weather. Instead he just sits at the hotel bar and has a long phone conversation with El, not even caring how much it's going to cost. Hearing her voice and knowing that they have to spend Christmas apart for the first time in over ten years just makes him miss her even more, but well, the circumstances are what they are.

Peter glances at his watch when he eventually ends the call. Neal told him to stay away from their hotel room for at least an hour, and he's already been sitting out here for over an hour and a half. Peter gets up from the bar stool, stretches his shoulders and lets himself take a look around the bar. Most of the tables are occupied by people who either look very happy or very unhappy -- it's easy to see who's staying at the hotel because they want to and who has been forced here because of the weather -- and Peter gives a sympathetic smile to the agitated waiter who passes him by.

He takes the elevator to their floor, ignoring the cheery Christmas music playing inside it. It doesn't really feel like Christmas, not to him. The weather is certainly exactly what Christmas is supposed to be like, perhaps even a bit too much, but Peter is not like Neal: he isn't used to holidays spent in hotels and in different locations each year. He likes traditions, likes the eggnog El makes every year and the quiet evenings they get to spend at home during Christmas time. He likes New York in Christmas as well; all the lights and snow and carols and the official FBI Christmas parties where even Hughes wears a santa hat. Peter has photographic evidence of it.

He doesn't bother knocking on their door, figuring that since it's been almost two hours already whatever Neal has planned should be ready by now. He steps inside and closes the door behind him, only then lifting his head and taking in the room.

It's definitely not what he expected.

He half-expected Neal to use this time to escape -- his anklet tracker is still working and Peter's phone would've alerted him if Neal had run, but it's still _Neal_ \-- but instead Neal has turned their basic hotel room into a Christmas party of their own. There are Christmas lights hung above the window, soft jazzy versions of Christmas songs playing in the background, and the table is groaning with food. Peter sees at least a small Christmas ham on it, as well as some salmon, something that looks like porridge, a few different casseroles, and plenty of food he doesn't even recognize. Next to the table is the hotel room's minibar, but somehow Peter gets the feeling that he's not going to find cheap Swedish beer when he looks inside it.

Neal is sitting in the same chair as earlier, drinking a glass of wine, and he looks up when Peter closes the door, grinning like the cat that caught the canary at Peter's surprised expession.

"How..." Peter starts, stepping further into the room and staring at all the food. His stomach rumbles at the sight of it, and it definitely looks better than the burgers he was planning on eating. "How on earth did you make this happen?"

Neal places his wine glass on the table and stands up, rocking on his heels. "I have contacts all over the world," he says vaguely and shrugs.

"But why?" Peter asks, turning to look at Neal in confusion.

Neal pushes his hands in his pockets. "Well, if Christmas won't come to us, we must go to Christmas." He steps closer and nods at the table. "I tried to get the food to be half American and half Swedish, but obviously the time and the storm kind of restricted my options --"

"It's amazing," Peter interrupts, noticing how Neal is starting to sound a little nervous, something he usually doesn't allow to show through. "Definitely something only Neal Caffrey could pull off," Peter adds jokingly, clapping Neal on the back.

Neal grins. "I'm glad you like it." He sounds like himself again, all smiles and confidence, and Peter smiles back at him. "We should eat before the food gets cold," Neal continues. "We can compare Swedish Christmas ham to deviled ham -- Sweden wins, by the way -- and talk about old cases or something. It's not the Christmas you were hoping for, but..."

Peter feels his smile widening. "Sure. That sounds great."

They eat and drink too much, talk until their mouths grow tired, and watch how the snow storm rages on outside. Once or twice even the Christmas lights above the hotel room window rattle a little from the force of the storm, but other than that it's almost easy to forget that the weather outside really is frightful. The food is even better than Peter expected, and even if it's not the Christmas he's used to, it's still comfortable and the best they can have in these circumstances. Neal didn't have to do any of this, but he still did, and that makes Peter appreciate it even more.

It's a few hours later when Neal is on his fifth or sixth glass of wine and Peter is nursing another beer that Neal suddenly stops in the middle of an elaborate story about one of his alleged crimes, furrowing his brows at his glass and twirling the crimson liquid around inside it.

Peter turns to look at him, his lazy smile fading when he notices the contemplative expression on Neal's face. "Neal?"

Neal takes a sip of his wine before he answers. "I was just wondering how long it has been since the last time I had a... A proper Christmas, I suppose." He keeps looking at the glass, but his eyes seem to be somewhere far away. "It's been... I don't even know how long," he laughs.

He looks casual, carefully so, but Peter knows him better. He frowns for a moment and then nudges Neal's shoulder with his own, almost startling him from his thoughts.

"This is nice, though?" he asks. "Thanks to you."

Neal's face is blank for a moment, but then he smiles, small and thankful. It makes him look younger than his years.

"Yeah," he says and clinks his glass against Peter's beer bottle. "This is nice."

 

\---

 

The snow storm eases up later the next morning. It doesn't take much to find Williams after the weather has cleared and the airports are open again, and Peter and Neal arrest him quite poetically on Christmas Day. They catch the next flight back to New York after that, and Peter gets to spend the last days of Christmas with Elizabeth after all.

This year, however, he invites Neal for dinner as well. Neal brings a bottle of wine, just like he said he would, and smiles a little nervously until Peter pulls him in for a quick hug and asks him if he would like some eggnog before they open the wine.

After that Neal's smile is smaller than usually but also more genuine, and Peter has a feeling they just started a new Christmas tradition in the Burke household.


End file.
